


On Near Death Experiences (pt. 2)

by poquimo



Series: Happy Little Experiments [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fenris is a badass, Not Really Character Death, Romantic Friendship, Unresolved Romantic Tension, and Hawke gets shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poquimo/pseuds/poquimo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A harrowing tale filled with Hawke's explorations in a career as a pin cushion, a lyrium idol and more family betrayal than a Sunday soap opera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Near Death Experiences (pt. 2)

**Author's Note:**

> So this has gotten out of hand and by out of hand I mean long enough to have three parts. I like cutting up the chapters into 4000 words or under so it STAYS in small story category and doesn't, maker forbid, become a full on chapter fanfiction because I am horrible at keeping up with that kind of thing! So, please enjoy part 2. Part 3 to be along now that I a finally graduated officially from college.

***

 

_  
Before Anders could respond to her coyness, Hawke had hurried on ahead past Varric and Fenris who had managed to get a good few feet away from them down a winding tunnel. Inside the walls glowed with blue light as lyrium veined through the stone. Hawke skipped right past them and into the tunnel, ooing audibly as she touched the veins._

_“Hey, look at this--”_

_Anders felt a surge go through his chest, a rare combination of panic and the tingling throbbing numbness that was his darkspawn sense going off in his mind. The panic though, came from seeing three arrows suddenly sprouting from Hawke's body, surprise barely registering on her face as she teetered where she stood and dropped._

 

***

 

Three things happened simultaneously then; both the elf and mage erupted in glowing light of their very own and Varric with all the speed and deftness of a damned acrobatic, chucked two round glass jars of alchemy smoke into the tunnel and half-ran half-slid to Hawke's side. He pulled the limp woman out of the tunnel, her hand batting at him rather more animatedly than any dead woman's hand should be.

“Fine-- fine. Wind... wind knocked out of me. Got me in the armor, _I'm fine_.”

Fenris charged past them, roaring out a battle cry that sent tremors down all their spines as he kicked off the tunnel wall and promptly slashed his blade in a high arc that beheaded the darkspawn coming through the smoke and cut the throat of the one next to it dead open. A quick dodge to the right saved him a blade to his side from another and with his weight thrown into his shoulder, Fenris offset his would be attacker and pushed him back into the darkspawn behind, knocking a few down and gaining precious seconds.

Varric had Hawke on her feet, arrows still sticking out from her armor which she promptly broke down into smaller size before taking out her blades. The three backed away from the smoke filled tunnel, the two rogues taking positions on either side of Fenris. Varric had Bianca loaded with an explosive round, waiting with finger poised for Hawke's signal. They had used this maneuver before and Anders quickly allowed heat to build up around his fingertips, summoning elemental magic from his core into workable fire in his palm.

The smoke cleared and Darkspawn all but exploded from the depths. They charged Fenris, the elf meeting them head on, swinging his blade in heavy handed strokes that would either hit or force them to back up. Hawke danced around the crowd and slipped a well aimed blade underneath the raised unguarded armpit of one monster, the spray of black blood startling her as she fell back and nearly took a wound for her efforts had the darkspawn's face behind her not suddenly exploded in mess of smoke and fire, compliments of Bianca.

Varric made his way back, loading quicker now as he shot a charging darkspawn through the ankle with a bolt, pining him down and stopping his assault. Hawke was a flash on the field, pivoting and jumping from place to place. The pinned darkspawn proved an excellent target and two quick backwards somersaults landed her in position, using the inertia to drive her blade home into the base of the back of its unguarded neck. Right at the spine.

The moment they had fallen back far enough, Anders finished the remaining four Darkspawn with a single point of an open palm. Trails of smoke and burning flame erupted outward and accumulated into a ball of infernal magic power. It exploded with much more force and heat than Bianca could boast and sent all four beasts down, their skin blackened and flaking.

The sensation of darkspawn past, the danger past, Anders wasted no time in rushing to Hawke's side. He managed to grab her arm just as her legs failed her, hissing in pain despite her previous assertions. 

“A cloth.” Anders demanded, not noticing his voice laced with Justice's own. Varric produced one immediately and the mage dosed it with water conjured from his magic. He made sure to get the blood off Hawke's hand first less she touch an open wound, then promptly burned the handkerchief in a moments surge of magic.

“Where?” he asked again and Hawke, trembling, pointed to an arrow lodged in the fleshy bit of her side. She was right, the arrows had not all been sharp enough to puncture through the boiled leather, but one had gotten in and her own movements had caused it to sink deeper.

“It-- it's just a _scratch_.”

She was beyond incorrect. Varric offered him a small dagger, both he and the elf maintaining a solemn quietness that was no doubt starting to scare the young rogue. She knew what came next and bit down as Anders laid her gently unto the hard ground and cut the arrow shorter before pulling the tip out. Oddly that the pain was little more than one might feel from a needle prick. As he worked, healing magic bathed out from his hands and numbed her senses. By the time he was done, the shock and the magic had claimed most of the pain and her body none. Justice's blue light faded off and Anders was left feeling both incredible relief and incredible exhaustion. He'd wasted too much magic in his panic.

“Now that the threat of doom is no longer nigh, mind telling me now _why_ my handkerchief deserved to die?” Varric added at last when he could breathe again.

“Varric, that rhymed.” Hawke pointed out with a lopsided smile. The dwarf shook his head and rolled his eyes for her benefit.

“The blood carries the taint. All our weapons, all our gear will have to be cleansed. I can-- I can do it... with a spell.” Anders words lost their strength as he felt the world tilt. Hawke stopped smiling and sat up to let him lean against her.

“Lyrium potion.” he said, and Hawke fetched one from inside a pocket of his coat.

While he tended to the potion, Fenris made an effort _not_ to step on any left over puddles of Darkspawn blood as he stabbed his blade into the ground to await Anders' magic.

“I'll cut out the rest of those bolts. You deal with her daggers and Broody's sword.” Varric offered, taking back the dagger and kneeling down to where Hawke sat, the girl still breathing hard. Anders was reluctant to leave her-- but if there were this many Darkspawn lingering about and his senses had been so dull as to not see it... Sandal could be in more trouble than they thought. _They_ could be in more trouble than they thought. He got up, only then realizing that Hawke's hand was entwined tightly with his own. She gave it a squeeze, looking up at him with a small smile on her paled face,

“Thank you.” she said quietly and Anders felt his heart jump into his throat. He squeezed back and then slowly slid away.

Varric gently took the end of an arrow in his hand and used the dulled blade to slowly work it out of the leather. The pair were silent as he worked, but she could feel his hands shaking-- or maybe it was just the own lingering tremor through her body. She felt dizzy.

“...thought we'd lost you there for a second.”

“Thought we'd lost me too.” she said, voice breaking. A nervous laugh bubbled out of her throat and she tried to keep her body still as he popped one arrow free and went to work on another.

“I've fought Darkspawn before-- but something about this place gives them an extra terrifying effect.”

Varric agreed, wiggling the tip of the blade around in her armor and pulling the last arrow free.

“Well, let's just hope no one aims for the holes.” he said, patting the top of her knee gently. He was up then, helping her stand with a strong pull. Hawke didn't want to appear particularly out of sorts, so this time she let go of Varric's hands far more quickly than she had Anders'.

“It would have made an interesting story though, don't get me wrong. _Hawke bounced along cheerily to the veins of lyrium as oblivious as a newborn babe and upon touching it turned to her compatriots and called out, “Hey, look at this--”_ ”

“Alright, alright. Point taken.” Hawke groaned, frowning at the sticky trails of blood left behind on her skin that was both Darkspawn and her own.

Varric couldn't help but grin as he gestured to her armor, “Literally.”

 

***

 

Despite the debacle, the four found Sandal on the other side with more dead piles of darkspawn than anyone could rightly claim to know how got there-- and one frozen ogre that Sandal had only had the sense to deem, “not enchantment”. It very much made it seem they had merely fought off what darkspawn were desperately trying to escape _Sandal_.. but that was of course ridiculous. A way through to the passage they had been blocked on was found shortly after and they returned triumphantly if not more bloody for their efforts.

Hawke was quick to get out of her armor and scrub herself down, finding that perhaps in their current state her leather was quite useless. Bodahn had eagerly offered to give her another set he had among his wares completely free of charge and she sported it proudly as they ventured deeper into the depths.

Soon the tunnels became too dark to move through without light. The molten glow of lava had long since been left behind and the lyrium veins that coated the walls had gone from blue to red. Anders kept close to Hawke now, but the rogue seemed to not mind his company nor his sudden close personal attention to her well being. Varric felt something prickle in his chest everytime he saw them both walking along, laughing and talking too quiet for anyone else to hear... it was not an entirely pleasant prickle.

He turned his attentions to the elf for lack of a desire to bare his brothers conversation,

“So, elf. Is it everything you'd thought it would be?”

“Darkspawn, putrid smells and rubble? Yes. Yes it is. How your people could bare to live in such a place-- it is truly madness.”

“You haven't even seen the Diamond Quarter before even. Just imagine all of this, but packed full with nugshit and nobles who would as soon as stab you as say “fine day mi'lord.”

“Hightown in the Deep Roads then?” Fenris asked, seemingly trying to truly envision it.

“Eh, close enough.”

“Except I ain't ever seen a thaig like this before.” Bartrand grumbled, interrupting the pair and calling for a stop of the expedition train. They had come to a wide opening in the dark tunnel, the wall vaulting upwards. Inside here there were carved steps and high arches, the designs that Hawke had been enamored with before now gone and replaced with images Varric had not been familiar with. However, being a surface dwarf all his life, this was nothing new.

“Where are the statues of the paragons? The deep roads are chock full of them!” his brother continued, his brow furrowed suspiciously.

“Maybe it is just old?” Hawke offered up, finally seeming to join the rest of the world that didn't exist around Blondie. Varric privately chided himself for the thought afterwards. Why he was set upon getting his knickers in a twist over them chewing the spit was beyond him.

“Or maybe we got it wrong? Is it the right thaig from the maps?”

“A mile down they said... but this doesn't look right. These dwarves must have been _different_ somehow.”

The way Bartrand said “different” though came out with much more disdain, distrust and with a helping of disgust than the word usually implied. 

“Different generally means rare, which means _valuable_.” Hawke observed optimistically and the promise of a good sum seemed to lighten up Bartrand's spirits.

“Go ahead and scout ahead again-- “ his eyes narrowed on Hawke, “But keep the dying to a minimum this time.”

Hawke made a show of faces and mocking him with silent movements of her lips when Bartrand turned his back, causing Varric to have to muffle a laugh into his hand. Bartrand moved on to keep picking over the thaigs bones while they ventured onward... this time more prepared.

Hawke took her pack from the boxes of their things and tossed Anders his own.

“From now on, let's make sure to have our health potions _on_ us lest we encountered some bastards who think we make excellent pin cushions.” she said with a solemn nod of her head. Anders snorted.

“How about from now on, the person in _metal_ armor goes through the tunnel first.” Fenris suggested and Hawke threw his pack at his head. He caught it in mid flight sadly.

“Petition for Fenris to leave the wise cracking to more suitable people. All in favor?”

Three hands rose up.

“Void take you all.” was Fenris' grumbled reply as he strode forward and took point.

 

***

 

It did not take long for the eerie glow of the thaig to finally claim all the cheer from the adventurers. Even Hawke had lost the mood for the limericks she and the elf had been exchanging, all learned from Isabela, and now trudged rather downheartedly and ever so often kicked a rock. Varric was oddly worse for wear than all of them, worrying at the straps that held Bianca to his back or biting his lips. Hawke watched him with growing sympathy-- and puzzlement.

“I'd have thought you right at home here.” she mentioned at last, falling into step with him. He jolted slightly, surprised by the voice after the many leagues of silence that had stretched on among them. The air was filled with that kind of tension authors just loved to write about... save one it seemed.

“Bartrand grew up in Orzammar, I was born here and I'd take sunshine and good grain mead over being nobility anyday-- twice during the Summersend feast.”

“There is a story there I bet.”

“Isn't there always?” Varric sighed, “This place gives me the creeps, even Bianca is nervous and she is twitchy to start with.”

That seemed to sum up everyones feelings in fact. Hawke had brushed off Bartrand's concerns before, bt now there was no denying it... something felt very wrong in this thaig.

The red lyrium was one thing, but these narrow passage were the worst of it. There was a sense of claustrophobia everywhere one turned and the constant threat of darkspawn waiting beyond each corner. Her side still ached where the arrow had nicked her and Hawke had no desire to find another battle anytime soon.

The narrow passage way they currently inhabited inevitably ended in a large open chamber. The ceiling spread out so high it faded into shadow and the end was beyond sight in the darkness. Hawke whistled lowly, the sound bouncing off the walls until the echo faded into blackness.

“Looks almost like an assembly hall from what I've heard of the dwarven cities.” Varric mumbled, venturing out warily into the open... right behind the elf that is.

“Or a worship room to the dark gods!” Anders piped in, “That center piece would be just the thing for all kinds of blood rituals and orgy ceremonies.”

Fenris, at the mention of “blood” growled lowly and stalked off further ahead.

“...it was a _joke_.” Anders assured them, but still Varric and Hawke stared at him with brows raised.

“Oddly specific joke.” Varric noted and Anders frowned and looked a bit flustered.

“Right. Doorway. Just over there. Investigating now.” he pointed forward to where Fenris had wandered off and quickly made to follow.  
It wasn't until he was gone that Hawke let herself giggle.

The next room oddly enough, DID look perfect for some kind of strange rituals. A large staircase led to the center of the room which was dominated by a heavy stone slab. The ghastly red light was even brighter in here and seemed to spread like a burst from the center of the stone.

“What is _that_?” Hawke asked to no one, her eyes fixed upon the object that lay out on the slab. Fenris looked the way a wary dog might, hackles raised and body tense. The lyrium lines that showed on his throat and bare arms pulsed suddenly with light; once... then twice then on and on.  
Anders even looked...paler. As if suddenly he was nauseated or faint. Hawke too felt a strange stirring of what similar to anxiety or the adrenaline burst that coursed through her blood when battle was upon them. Exciting, but dangerous. Varric appeared completely unfazed so far.

“Is that... lyrium?” the dwarf whispered in awe, and that was saying something. As he leaned in to get a better look the ghastly light seemed to reflect off his eyes and make the golden color redder in hue. The figure could be described in short as an idol. A knotted like shape made up the majority of it, red lyrium veins creeping around what could have been metal or hardened iron bark. The carving within it appeared to be a human of some sort, but the appearance was distorted and ghastly. It was the source of the glowing in the room and pulsed in time with Fenris's own bluish white glow. Hawke heard the elf's armor shift as if he shuddered and slowly he moved away with a look of disquiet.

“We should leave it be.” he said, warning edging into his voice. Anders however, ignored him out right and taking a place by Varric nodded in affirmation.

“It definitely feels like lyrium....” his words sounded dry and he removed a waterskin from his pack and drank deeply. Fenris watched him darkly, his eyes veiled behind the white of his hair like a wolf at hunt. He should have been more worried of Hawke however, as in a quick move she picked the idol up.

Behind them came the sudden scraping sound of the stone door opening further. Varric turned and suddenly broke out into the first real smile Hawke had seen on his face sense they arrived in the deep roads.

“Look at this Bartrand!” he hollered, as his brother followed in behind them, “An Idol... made with _pure lyrium_ , I think. Could be worth a fortune!”

Bartrand whistled lowly, “You could be right. Excellent find...”

Gingerly Hawke tilted the idol this way and that, only to have Varric finally relieve her of it and haphazardly toss it down to his brother's waiting hands.

“We are going to be _rich_.” Varric assured, practically beaming. He appeared then to Hawke in a way she'd never seen before.... like he was waiting for Bartrand to approve. Like that little encouragement already received had fed into something in him he hid, something that was starving. Bartrand smiled back and Varric seemed sated. With how much they fought, how indifferent they seemed... he was his older brother. Something in her sank slightly towards the direction of Bethany carved into her heart.

“Not bad. We'll take a look around, see if there is anything further in.” Varric said, turning to Hawke with eyes still gleaming with triumph-- and the red of the lyrium light.

"You do that...” Bartrand said, barely over a whisper as he gently touched the idol, feeling something... _raw_ , something primal and ancient coursing through it.

Whatever went through his mind then, whether already predetermined long before or only considered now as held the idol in his hand, Bartrand grabbed the latch of the stone door and began to draw it closed.

Fenris stiffened, his eyes catching the movement as he bawked, “The door!”  
Hawke's head snapped around and felt that same sinking feeling fall deeper now as she hurried down the stone staircase-- just in time for the stone door to slam shut; sealed in front of them. Varric was not far behind, nor Anders. The dwarf pressed his hands against the door along with Hawke, straining to open it.

“Bartrand!” Varric called out, his voice a nervous laugh, “The door-- it locked behind you.”  
There was a pause followed by the faint sound of a chuckle,

“You always were the smart one, Varric.”

That look on his face that Hawke had saw only moments before deflated into something she recognized wholly as the expression Bethany too had wore. Confusion, shock, betrayal-- rage. 

“You-- you're really going to screw over your own brother for _a fucking idol?!_ ”  
Never had Hawke heard Varric's voice go from bewilderment, to hurt, to pure anger before. His last words came out a snarl.

“Not _just_ the idol,” Bartrand spoke calmly, as if it were all entirely reasonable, “The location of this thaig is worth a fortune on it's own.”

“Bartrand, we can still work this out. Why--”

“I'm not splitting that _three_ ways!” 

Varric stared silently at the stone slab, neither saying anything for a long while before faintly Bartrand's voice rang out. It sounded further away,

“Sorry, brother.”

Reality snapped Varric out of his stupor instantly and his fist slammed in vain on the door.  
“Bartrand?! BARTRAND!”

Varric was trembling, keeping his anger subdued as he listened, as they all strained to hear any sign Bartrand was coming back. Anders had already begun feeling the cracks and lines along the doors frame, as if it could be opened... Fenris hung back once more, glowing bright as ever in silent fury. 

“When I... when I get my _hands_ on that son of a bitch-- sorry mother-- I will _kill_ him.” he hissed at last, shoulders slumped as he let his hands fall away from the door.

“... it's no use Blondie.” he said to Anders, the mage realizing as well there was no forcing magical or otherwise, this door to budge. 

“I'll-- we'll find another way out.” the mage said at last, looking at Hawke then at Varric then moving aside to begin the search. Fenris followed silently behind him, and Hawke thought she even heard the faint rumble of his voice as he asked Anders what the mage needed him to do to help. The bickering had already begun before they got half way back up the steps.

Hawke hung back with Varric, hesitating only for a moment before she placed her hand on his shoulder. He had not yet made any show of moving from the spot. He breathed out at her touch however,

“... I just thought...” he groaned and rubbed his face, letting his hand pass over his mouth several times. He dropped his hands then only to lift them in a shrug of defeat.  
“I don't know what I thought. Let's-- let's just go before our tank splatters the healer.”

“I would be very cross.” Hawke added in attempt to be light.

“ _I know_.” Varric snapped, his voice edged and harsh. He regretted it instantly. In his anger, his-- Andraste's tits, his _grief_ and hurt he had let the gnawing unpleasant feeling that had reared up when he saw them together come out. She winced just enough that he knew she had tried to hide it. Was it out of pity she said nothing? 

No... no it was understanding. An understanding she was attempting to share as he had to her.

He sighed and placed his hand over hers that still held to his shoulder.  
“I mean, I know.” his voice was gentler this time, his smile forced still however. Hawke squeezed back tightly and did not let go until they were halfway up the staircase and Anders proudly came to show them where he'd found another door.


End file.
